A/N: The timeline is different in this fic than the show. Surrounds Stiles, the coming to an end of Stilia, and the beginning of Stydia. Post Nogitsune. Stiles struggles with nightmares, and his emotions.
** I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters, but sometimes I wish I owned Stiles ;)
The school year has ended, and it took all of Stiles' energy just to finish without failing every class. The Nogitsune really took a toll on him, he still experiences nightmares - but not as bad as before - and he is more erratic than ever. Malia has helped him through it. Scott has been trying as well, but it is impossible to keep him around all the time so Malia comforts him at night.
This particular night was strange. Before going home Stiles had ran into Lydia. They hadn't spoken much after Aiden died. Lydia made it clear that she didn't blame him, but it was mostly Stiles who was actively trying to give her space. That's what he told himself anyway. He knew it was avoiding, but it sounded better when he said he was giving her space. Lydia's smile burned into his mind, so he felt extra distracted that evening when he got home. His dad noticed his behavior. "Son have you been taking your adderall lately?"
So nonchalant. Stiles thought while he picked at the last of his food. "Yeah pops. I'm just a little extra distracted today." He flashed a quick smile hoping that it would quell any more questions about the topic. He really didn't want to discuss his guilt for Lydia's late boyfriend… again. "Okay. I'm just making sure you are okay." John knew something was wrong but he could tell Stiles didn't want him to push this time. They finished dinner in silence.
When Stiles retreated to his room he couldn't focus on reddit, or any of his usual computer tracks. He settled for trying to sleep. Wearing his dad's old army shirt that he snuck from his room and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he crawled into his bed and tried to sleep. Instead he found himself staring at the ceiling and drumming his fingers on his chest. Eventually the slow thumping rhythm of his fingers lulled him to sleep. It wasn't long after that he felt a depression in his bed, and a warm body pull up to him. Malia. With her next to him he was able to actually fall asleep.
Malia roused with a bit of confusion. Stiles was tossing and turning a little more than usual, and he was mumbling. Even with her werecoyote hearing she couldn't make out the words. She knew the nightmare was coming, and she wanted to pull him from it before it hit full blast. Gently she shook his shoulder. "Stiles." She shook him a little more, "Hey, Stiles. Wake up." His body rolled towards her, brow furrowed. His voice was almost a low groan, "Lydia?" When there wasn't a response he opened his eyes slowly, fighting the sleep to find a very angry Malia sitting up in his bed. Shit.
Stiles sat up, stammering for something to say. Trying to explain why he just called her Lydia. He knew exactly why. Because you saw her, and you were having that dream again. "Well don't just sit there, don't you have something to say?" There was silence. Stiles didn't know what to say because he didn't know how he should feel about it.
He should feel bad, but he just didn't. He didn't feel sorry about having the same dream he had been having since the 7th grade, he didn't feel sorry for his dream that was triggered by seeing Lydia. You can't tell her that. "I don't know what you want me to say." His words came out quieter than he wanted. He looked over at her, he was still wrapped in his blanket. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable he got up and paced. Malia responded by standing, arms crossed leaning against the wall.
It felt like hours had passed, and when Stiles looked out his window he saw the sun coming up. They had been going in circles not getting anywhere. Malia was angry, still unable to control the emotions from being a coyote. Stiles had nothing to say that could validate that it was a mistake, he was frustrated and exhausted. "Malia, there isn't anything I can say that is going to make this better." His tone flat, knowing that she knew he was right. He watched her as she walked toward him. The feeling he used to have when she closed in on him was now gone. When did that happen? He stood, bracing himself for the ever expected slap across the face but he was shocked when it didn't come.
"I'm not surprised. I'm leaving anyway." Malia's words were like cold air hitting Stiles. "What?" He was surprised at how disappointed he sounded, because he didn't feel it. "I'm leaving. Peter and I are leaving to find the Desert Wolf, and I am not coming back." There were a few minutes of silence. Stiles was irked by the relief he felt. "Oh." That is all you have to say Stilinski? The look on Malia's face was one of skepticism. It seemed like she wasn't sure if he even heard her. "Figures, well I'm leaving. We are supposed to leave today so… I guess thanks for the memories." She turned and walked out. Stiles couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, but he wasn't hurt by it either. So he chalked it up as a win/win and crawled back into his bed hoping for another hour or two of sleep.